


Cherry Blossom Girl

by Jiangyin



Category: Hanson
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Soulmate-Identifying Timers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-08-29 19:36:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16750309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jiangyin/pseuds/Jiangyin
Summary: “If a clock could count down to the moment you meet your soul mate, would you want to know?”When Lindsey accepts an offer of a job in New York, the numbers on the timer she's worn since birth jump forward ten years.At exactly the same moment, Taylor's timer - broken for the last thirteen years - does something he never expected. It resets.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So this is something of a different story for me, albeit one I've wanted to write for quite a while now. It takes its inspiration from a [post](http://starksgrace.tumblr.com/post/60191543048/one-lastmiracle-a-cumberbatch-of-cookies) that does the rounds on Tumblr every so often, and is also inspired by the trope [Red String Of Fate](https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/RedStringOfFate). I've played with this idea briefly in the past, but never as explicitly as I will be in this fic.
> 
> Thank you to Kris, Liz, Jen and Crystal for being some of my biggest cheerleaders for my writing. <3

### Prologue

“Auntie Lins?”

I paused on my way into my in-laws’ kitchen at the sound of my name. A quick glance down to my left, and I saw one of my many nieces and nephews standing a couple of feet away.

“Yeah, Mia?” I asked, hoping I’d got my niece’s name right. There were so many smaller Hansons these days – my two notwithstanding – that I was beginning to have trouble keeping track. She didn’t correct me, much to my relief, instead giving me a smile.

“How did you and Uncle Taylor meet?” Mia asked. She’d put her hands together behind her back and was rocking back on her heels as she studied me, deep brown eyes fixed on mine.

“Did you ask Uncle Taylor?” I replied, and resumed my walk through to the kitchen. Just out of the corner of my eye I could see Mia trotting alongside me, skipping a little so she could keep up with my long strides.

“He said I should ask you.”

I bit back a laugh. Of course he did.

I stopped walking just outside the kitchen door and lowered myself into a crouch so that I was at my niece’s level. Once I was sure I wasn’t going to overbalance I shook back the right sleeve of my hoodie and turned my hand so that Mia could see the underside of my wrist. In very faint writing that I recognised as Taylor’s was a date – _March 17 2017_. He had the same date on his own wrist, only in my hand.

“We met after a concert,” I said. I brushed my left thumb across my wrist, over the writing. “Did your mum and dad tell you about your timer?”

Mia nodded. “Mom said it would be all zeroes when I meet the person I’m gonna marry.”

“Well, you don’t _have_ to marry them. Lots of people don’t. But they’ll be the one person in all of the world who knows you as well as you know yourself. Maybe even better than that.”

She seemed to consider this for a little while. “Is that what happened with you and Uncle Taylor?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” I let out a quiet chuckle. “I swear he would have chased me down after the show that night if I hadn’t gone after him first.” Mia giggled at this, and I cracked a smile. “Do you want to hear the whole story?”

“Yeah!”

“Thought you might. Come on then.”

It wasn’t long before I had what I’d gone to the kitchen for – a cup of tea for me, along with a mug of hot chocolate for Mia – and the two of us had settled ourselves at the little kitchen table. Over Mia’s shoulder I could see into the living room, to where Taylor was sitting on the floor reading to our girls. He looked up from his book just long enough to give me a smile, one that lit up his bright blue eyes.

“So, a story,” I said once I’d drunk some of my tea. “It starts off like many stories do – with a boy and a girl.”


	2. One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to **southernwind08** , **xhorizen** and **atmc35** for leaving kudos, and to **ihategohip** and **boomersoonerash** for commenting on the prologue. <3

### Chapter One

_Lindsey_

Stories never begin with headaches. They all start with happy protagonists rushing out into the world. Not with protagonists curled up in bed with the covers over their head, trying to sleep through or at the very least ignore the pain.

“Lins?” one of my flatmates called out quietly. At the same time I could hear my bedroom door creaking open, and I risked peering out from beneath my quilt just in time to see Vicki sticking her head into my room. “Are you okay? It’s after eight.”

“Migraine,” I managed to get out, and I buried myself again.

“Oh dear.” Through my quilt I could hear quiet footsteps padding across my bedroom floor, and the sound of wood creaking as someone settled into the chair at my desk. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

I thought about it for a second, doing my best to remember where I kept my painkillers. “My shelf in the bathroom, I’ve got a packet of Panadol Extra – can you get me that and a glass of water?”

“Yeah, of course I can.”

More creaking of wood and hinges, more quiet footsteps padding across my bedroom floor, and soon I felt the end of my mattress dip down a little. “I put it on your bedside table,” Vicki said. “Do you want me to let Alison know you can’t come in today?”

If not for the fact that I had a raging migraine, and also if I wasn’t currently buried under my quilt, I would have nodded in answer. Instead I replied, “Yes, please. I’ll apologise to her when I go in next.”

“I’m sure she won’t mind that you can’t come in. Not your fault you get migraines.”

I half-shrugged, even though I was the only one aware of it. “I’m still sorry.”

“Well, you shouldn’t be. I’ll see you after work tonight, okay? Anything in particular you’d like for dinner?”

I tried to think for a little while, coming up with nothing. “I can’t think of anything right now – I’ll text you if I think of something.”

“No worries. You look after yourself today, all right? Watch some crap telly or something.”

I bit back a laugh. “I will.”

I waited until I was sure Vicki had left to head downstairs before peeking out from beneath my quilt. Just as she had said, sitting on my bedside table was a glass of water and the packet of Panadol Extra that lived on my shelf in the second-floor bathroom, and I barely managed to hold back a sigh of relief.

I had soon taken a couple of Panadol, and it wasn't long at all before it kicked in and reduced the pounding in my head to something resembling a dull roar. As soon as I felt I could brave the world beyond the cocoon of my quilt, I gingerly eased myself upright and examined the underside of my right wrist.

Like everyone else in the world, I had a timer. I wasn't entirely sure of the mechanics behind it – according to what I'd learned during my first year of secondary school, it had something to do with capillaries and blood flow – but I did know that it counted down to what was supposed to be the most important day of my life. The day I would meet the one person who knew me as well as I knew myself – perhaps even better than that.

Only for most of my life, for reasons nobody had ever been able to work out, my timer had never worked properly.

All through my childhood and teenage years, where others had had a neat row of numbers arranged like a digital clock that steadily ticked down the years, months, days, hours, minutes and seconds, my timer had constantly guttered in and out of existence. I occasionally caught sight of flickering numbers as they flashed across my skin, but that was it. To anyone who didn't know me I was just one of the very few people in the world who for whatever reason didn't have a timer. It had finally stopped glitching a few weeks after my twenty-first birthday, settling into a proper, regular pattern of numbers that had been ticking down ever since. Right now it read _10:05:13:15:04:45_ – still more than ten years remained before it was due to zero out.

The house was quiet and warm when I finally made my way downstairs around three quarters of an hour later, still in my pyjamas. It was a Monday, so the earliest any of my flatmates would be home was early afternoon, when Kelly came home from her shift at the Waterstones in the nearby shopping centre. It wasn’t often that I had the house entirely to myself – it would have been better if I didn’t have a migraine hanging around, but I still planned to enjoy it as best I could. And the first thing on my morning agenda was breakfast.

I had just settled myself on the sofa with Marmite on toast and a cup of tea, and was flicking on the TV so I could resume my binge of _Monty Python’s Flying Circus_ – I had trouble tolerating morning television at the best of times, but when I was in the grips of a migraine it was out of the question entirely – when I heard my phone chime at me. Thinking it was just one of my flatmates asking if I needed anything while they were out, I ignored my phone in favour of loading up Netflix. Whatever it was, it could wait until I had at least finished my toast.

Almost as soon as the credits rolled at the end of the ninth episode of series two, I picked up my phone and unlocked it, and swiped my thumb down its screen to bring up the notifications panel. Right at the top was a notification of a new email in my work inbox, and I groaned silently, figuring it was something that Alison wanted me to chase up. Even on my day off I had work to do.

With more than a little trepidation, tempered by just a tiny bit of curiosity, I opened the email and started to read.

> _Lindsey,_
> 
> _I’d hoped to discuss this with you at work today, but it seems email will have to suffice for now. If possible I’d like to go over it with you in more detail when you come in next._
> 
> _Essentially, a colleague of mine in New York City has forwarded details of a vacancy at the New York Public Library. They are looking for a new Young Adult librarian for their Washington Heights branch, with a view to conducting interviews within the next few weeks and filling the position before the New Year or very soon thereafter. I’ve been asked to nominate two or three people that I think would be interested in and suitable for the position. You were the first person I thought of._
> 
> _I realise that this sort of position is somewhat outside your area of expertise, and that (should you accept it) New York is a long way to go for a new job. Nevertheless, I think you would be the ideal person to take it on. Aside from the requisite qualifications, they are looking for someone who is a creative thinker and an enthusiastic reader, and who is skilled at conducting research and resourceful with the information they gather and use – qualities that you possess._
> 
> _It’s perfectly all right if you decide you aren’t interested in this position, and I would completely understand. But I’d like it if you would give it some serious consideration. If you are interested, let me know either via email or the next time you come in, and I’ll put you in touch with my colleague._
> 
> _\-- Alison_

I felt a little stunned as I finished reading Alison’s email. It was true that the job in question was nothing I had ever done before. I’d studied History at university, and my job at London’s Guildhall Library allowed me to specialise even further within my field – I’d been in charge of the library’s Late Middle Ages and Early Renaissance music collections for the last six years, and I was part of a team that maintained an online exhibition about the Great Fire of London. I loved my job and my city, and I’d never even contemplated working or living anywhere else.

But this job, even though it would mean packing up my life and relocating thousands of miles across the Atlantic, it really was the opportunity of a lifetime – one that probably wouldn’t come around again for many more years, if it ever did at all. I would have to be mad to pass it up. Even so, I knew I would need to think about it carefully – I didn’t want a move to New York to be something I would spend the rest of my life regretting.

The sound of the front door swinging open just after two that afternoon made me look up from one of my many notebooks, open before me on the dining table. “Anyone home?” Kelly called out. I could hear a quiet jingling as she hung her keys up on their hook next to the front door, and a _thud_ as she set her bag down on the set of low shelves that sat against the wall in the front hallway. She gave me a smile as she walked into the large room that took up most of the ground floor of the house. “Hey, how are you feeling? Vicki said you had a migraine.”

“Better,” I replied. And really, I did feel better. A hot shower, more Panadol and a decent lunch had calmed my migraine even further, to the point where I could barely feel it. I hadn’t even needed to dig out my ginger tablets out, something that I needed to do a lot during my particularly bad migraines, so that was a victory in itself. “I might actually be able to go to work tomorrow.”

“That’s really good to hear.” She gave me another smile and sat down next to me at the table. “So what have you been up to?”

“Binged _Monty Python_ most of this morning.” Here I unlocked my phone, opened my email app and navigated to the email that Alison had sent me. “And my boss sent me this,” I added, and slid my phone over to Kelly. “Have a read.”

It didn’t take her long to read through the email. “Holy crap,” she breathed when she was done. “Are you going to do it?”

“It’s not set in stone, Kel. I’d have to go for an interview first, and there’s no guarantee I would even get the job.” I ran a thumbnail along the edge of the table. “Plus I’m not even sure I want it, anyway. I like my job, and it’s a hell of a long way to go for work.”

“Yeah, I get that. But _New York_ , Lins! This is a huge deal.”

“Which is exactly why I need to think about this really carefully. What if I end up regretting it? I don’t want that to happen.”

“Again, I get that.” Out of the corner of my eye I could see Kelly studying me. “Okay, you’re a librarian, right?”

“Yeah,” I replied, wondering where she was going with this. “And I like the library I’m working at right now. It’s a good job.”

“Yeah, I know that. But I’m betting there’s at least one library that you dream of working at. Right?”

“The British Library,” I said immediately. “And if I couldn’t work there…” I trailed off as I realised what Kelly was getting at. “The New York Public Library.”

Kelly grinned. “See? Not only is this job the opportunity of a fucking _lifetime_ , but it’s basically your dream job. And hell, your boss even says you’re the first person she thought of for it. That’s enough of a reason for me.”

“It’s just…” I raked my hands back through my hair. “It’s New York, Kel. It’s thousands of miles away. I’d be packing up my entire life and moving nearly halfway across the world, to a city and a country I’ve never been to before. What if I hate it there?”

“So you come home.” Kelly shifted her chair a little closer to me. “Look, you said yourself that nothing is set in stone just yet. What’s the harm in just going in for an interview?”

I was quiet for a little while after this, as if I was contemplating what Kelly had said, before breaking the silence with a sigh. “You’re right. There’s no harm in just going in for an interview. I’ll email Alison back tonight.”

Kelly gave me another grin. “Atta girl.”

That night, before I settled down to sleep, I replied to Alison’s email.

> _Alison,_
> 
> _Thank you for your email this morning. I’m very interested in the position on offer, and would love to discuss it further. I look forward to speaking with you about it soon._
> 
> _Lindsey_

* * *

“So what exactly is this job you’ve applied for?”

I paused, my sandwich frozen midway between my plate and my mouth, and looked over at my brother. He was eyeing me over his own lunch, hazel eyes nearly identical to my own peering at me through the lenses of his glasses.

“Librarian,” I replied, and took a bite out of my sandwich.

“Yeah, I get that,” Alex said. “But librarian _where?_ It must be pretty important if you’re announcing it over Saturday lunch. If it wasn’t you’d say something on Facebook.”

“He does have a point, love,” Mum said from her own seat at the table, without looking up from buttering a couple of slices of bread. I did my best to hold back from rolling my eyes at this. “If it was at a library nearby you’d have said something about it. But you’ve been awfully quiet.”

“Because I don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up about it,” I said. “I don’t even want to get _mine_ up.” I picked at the crusts of my sandwich. “I’m still not even sure I’d say yes if I got the job,” I added.

“So why’d you even apply for it in the first place?” Alex asked.

“Because-” I broke off abruptly, not wanting to regret the next words that I knew would leave my mouth, and made to get up from the table. A hand on my shoulder stopped me, and I looked over at Mum.

“I think we should leave the matter alone,” she said, a warning in her tone that I knew was directed at Alex.

“Thank you,” I said quietly as I settled myself again.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Mum said with a slightly raised eyebrow, something I only recognised because it was something I did myself. “We’re going to have a chat about this after lunch, just you and me. All right?”

I knew better than to argue with Mum. “Yeah, all right,” I agreed, and went back to my lunch.

When the three of us had finished eating, Mum set Alex to the task of clearing the table and stacking the plates, glasses and cutlery we’d used in the kitchen sink, ready to be washed later on. She then led me into the narrow little room at the back of the house, just off the kitchen, settling herself on the overstuffed sofa that sat against one wall. Rather than join her straight away, I went over to the window that looked out onto the back garden and leaned on the windowsill with my arms crossed. I could see a little squirrel perched on the rim of the bird feeder in the middle of the garden, a nut clasped in its paws, and watched it while I tried to figure out what I needed to say. Mum thankfully didn’t push me to talk, instead patiently waiting for me to speak.

“It’s in New York City,” I said once I’d gathered my thoughts.

“What is?” Mum asked.

“The job I applied for. It-” I broke off again, like I’d done earlier with Alex, and turned to face Mum. “It’s at the New York Public Library. I wouldn’t have even considered it if my boss hadn’t suggested it – I’ve never done anything like it before.”

“What sort of job is it?”

“Young Adult Librarian. Basically working with teenagers. I’ve barely had any contact with teenagers since I _was_ one.” I eyed Mum. “And before you say anything, Millie and Ben _don’t_ count.”

“I hardly think your boss would have suggested it if she didn’t think you could do it,” Mum said, and she patted the spot next to her. “Come and sit, love.”

“She said I’d be great at it,” I said once I’d sat down next to Mum. “I don’t see how.”

“What are they looking for?” Mum asked. I could feel her undoing the neat plait I’d coaxed my hair into that morning as she spoke. “As part of the job, I mean.”

I didn’t answer straight away, choosing instead to pull up Alison’s email on my phone. “They want someone who can think creatively, who loves to read, and is good at researching and making use of the information they find,” I said, paraphrasing what Alison had written. “And she said I’ve got all those. Plus my Master’s, but that’s a given anyway – I couldn’t have got my job without it.” I dug my thumbnail into my phone’s case, leaving a crescent-shaped mark in the leather. “She said I was the first person she even thought of for the job.”

“That’s high praise, love. She clearly thinks you’re the right person for it.” Mum started running her fingers through my hair. “That’s not what’s worrying you though, is it?”

I shook my head. “It’s just…it’s a long way to go for a job, Mum. I’ve never been to New York, let alone the United States. What if-” I broke off abruptly and let my eyes drop closed. “What if I bugger the whole thing up somehow?”

“Lindsey…” Mum gently turned me so that I was facing her. “I very much doubt that you would bugger it up somehow, if you did end up getting this job. You’re a very good librarian, sweetheart – I really doubt your boss would have put you in charge of an entire collection if you weren’t. And I really doubt she would have recommended you for this job if you were completely awful.”

“I know, Mum…”

“And what’s more,” Mum continued, “I know for a fact that this is a job you’ve always dreamed of, even if it _is_ nearly halfway across the world. Ever since you decided you wanted to _be_ a librarian. You never would have been content with just London, Lins – you’ve always wanted the world.”

Here Mum picked up my right hand in both of hers and turned it so that my palm and the underside of my wrist – and in turn, my timer – faced upward. I felt a shiver run down my back as she ran a thumb over my timer’s digits.

“I met your dad at uni,” she said. “He’d come down from Sheffield on a scholarship. The night before I accepted my offer of a place at uni, my timer had been sitting at five years.” She looked at me, the green eyes I’d somehow managed to escape inheriting meeting my hazel. “The _second_ I decided to accept my offer, even though it wasn’t from the uni I’d always dreamed of going to, those five years were wiped right off my timer. I met your dad four months later.”

She put my hand back in my lap and gave me a smile. “I’m not saying the same will happen if they decide they want to hire you on and you decide to accept their offer. That’s not what I’m saying at all. But it might. You might get very lucky.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

Right at that moment, neither Mum nor I had any idea how prophetic her words would turn out to be.

On Monday morning, I caught my usual train into the city. ‘Good luck’s and ‘knock ‘em dead Lins’ echoed in my head as I crammed myself onto the eight-twenty-seven to Moorgate, joining the few hundred city-bound passengers who had already found seats or places to stand. I quickly found a seat near the doors that the other passengers had somehow overlooked and settled myself into it, pulled my phone out of my pocket and opened my notetaking app, and started going over the notes I’d spent the previous evening writing.

For this would be no ordinary day at work. Not by a long shot. That afternoon I had an interview for what really was the job of a lifetime – an opportunity that I really did not want to ruin by putting my foot in my mouth and saying the wrong thing. Owing to the distance between New York City and London, the interview would be taking place over Skype. It was definitely an unusual medium for a job interview, at least in my experience, but in this instance a wholly necessary one.

Even more unusual was that even though I was catching my usual train, I wasn’t going into work until late. The time difference between London and New York meant that it would be mid-afternoon before the person who I’d be speaking with would be ready to interview me. Alison had therefore given me the morning off, and I planned to spend at least part of it in the garden just up the street from the library. If nothing else, a wander around the garden’s grounds would help to calm the anxiety that was doing its level best to piss me off.

 _What time is your interview?_ Vicki texted me just as my train swept into Moorgate station, gliding to a stop alongside the platform right on nine o’clock. I ignored it as I joined the flood of passengers headed off the train and out of the station, leaving my phone in my pocket until after I’d touched out at my usual exit. Once I was out of the flow of pedestrian traffic, having found a spot to stand outside a coffee shop next to the station exit, I fished my phone back out of my pocket and replied to Vicki’s text.

**_Half past three._ **

_Bit late isn’t it?_

**_Not really. New york’s 5 hours behind london, if it was any earlier they’d have to get out of bed to talk to me. Would hate to put them out like that, it would make a terrible first impression._ **

_Good point._ Vicki was quiet for a while after that, my phone staying silent during my walk from the station down to the Starbucks on Moorgate. It didn’t chime again until I’d joined the line that snaked away from the counter. _How are you feeling about it?_

 ** _Nervous_** , I replied, after giving the matter some thought. **_This is potentially my career on the line. I really don’t want to fuck this up._**

I could almost hear Vicki scoffing with her next message. _You, fuck something up? That’ll be the day. :p you got this._

 ** _Fingers crossed._** I added a crossed fingers emoji to the end of the text before I sent it, crossing my own fingers at the same time.

The rest of the day almost seemed to fly past. Almost before I realised it I was standing before the mirror in the ladies’ staff bathroom, making sure I looked presentable before my interview. I had pulled my hair out of its ponytail from that morning, fingercombed through my curls to tidy them up and worked them into a neat plait, changed my shirt, and had even put on a little makeup. I wanted to make the best impression possible – I always did, but today it seemed more important than usual.

“You can do this,” I told my reflection. The Lindsey I could see in the mirror looked terrified and more than a little washed-out, but I blamed the latter on the fluorescent light mounted on the ceiling. And really, I was terrified. I didn’t normally get anxious before interviews, so this was a new feeling for me – one I didn’t like a bit.

I closed my eyes for a few moments and took a couple of deep breaths. Right as I opened my eyes again my phone vibrated in my pocket, and I glanced quickly at my watch – it gave the time as three-fifteen.

“Time to rock and roll,” I said quietly.

Alison met me outside her office just down the hall from the bathroom. I gave her a small smile as I approached.

“Are you ready, Lindsey?” she asked, and I nodded.

“I think so. Tiny bit nervous though.”

“That’s perfectly normal. I think I’d be concerned if you weren’t even just a bit nervous.” She opened her office door and gestured for me to go in. “We’ll use my computer for the interview – it’s quieter in my office and there’s less chance of anyone interrupting you.”

“I appreciate this opportunity, Alison. Thanks for letting me know about it.”

She gave me a smile. “My pleasure, Lindsey.”

The interview began right on three-thirty, with a Skype call request popping up on the computer screen right as the second hand of the clock on the wall swept past the twelve. “My name is Bethany Knight,” the interviewer said to introduce themselves once the call had connected – they were a dark-haired woman wearing thick-rimmed glasses. “I’m the manager at the Washington Heights branch of the New York Public Library – you’re Lindsey, right?”

I nodded. “That’s me, Ms. Knight.”

Bethany gave me a smile. “It’s lovely to be able to put a face to a name at last. Why don’t you start by telling me a little about yourself?”

“Well…” I swallowed hard before continuing, hoping I didn’t sound as nervous as I felt. “I’m a graduate of the City University London – I hold a Bachelor of Arts with Honours in History, and a Master of Arts in Library Science. I attained my Bachelor degree in 2003 and my Master’s in 2004. I’m currently employed at the Guildhall Library here in London – I manage the Late Middle Ages and Early Renaissance music collections, and I also assist in the maintenance of an online exhibition about the Great Fire of London.”

“I see.” Bethany sounded impressed by this, which I took as a good sign. That was all the cue I needed to relax, and I settled back into Alison’s office chair. _You can do this, Lins_ , I told myself, repeating what I’d said to my reflection only twenty minutes earlier.

The interview seemed to be pretty standard as far as job interviews went. When it wound up around half an hour later I let out a silent sigh of relief, and managed to catch Alison’s eye from across the room. She gave me a nod – I’d done well. I could only hope Bethany and whoever it was that would be making the hiring decision felt the same way.

“I think that ought to do it,” Bethany said. “If you’ll excuse me for a few minutes, I need to confer with my colleagues.”

“Yeah, of course,” I agreed.

I was incredibly tempted to completely relax while I waited for Bethany to return, but I held back. There was no telling when she would be back, and it would be horribly unprofessional of me to be caught not paying attention. I didn’t even dare pull my phone out. Instead I sat ramrod-straight in Alison’s desk chair, reaching down to pinch myself just above my knee whenever I found my attention wandering.

It felt like an eternity before Bethany finally returned. She gave me a bright smile as she settled herself back behind what I figured was her desk. “Now, before I continue, you are aware that this position is in New York City, and that you would need to move to the States?”

I nodded. “I’m prepared for that.”

“That’s good to hear Lindsey, because my colleagues at the library and I would love to have you on board.”

It took me a few seconds to register just what Bethany had said. “The job’s mine?” I asked, barely allowing myself to believe it.

“It sure is, if you want it. There’s still a few things I’d need to go over with you, of course, but that would be easily taken care of either over email or when you arrive in the States. So what do you say? Will you be joining us in New York?”

“Yes,” I said emphatically. “Holy _sh_ -” I broke off abruptly and immediately felt my face beginning to heat up. “Sorry. Got a bit excited there.”

Bethany let out a chuckle. “That’s quite all right, Lindsey.”

After a promise to be in touch soon with all the information I would need to start getting ready to move overseas, Bethany ended the call. I pressed a hand over my mouth as soon as the chat window closed, hardly able to believe it, and let my eyes fall shut. The opportunity of a lifetime had fallen right in my lap, and I’d barely even hesitated in taking it.

“Well done, Lindsey,” Alison said, and I looked up just in time to see her giving me a smile. “I believe that New York is about to gain one hell of a librarian.”

I lowered my hand and returned Alison’s smile. “Thanks, Alison. I can’t thank you enough for this – this is amazing. It really is.”

Just as I finished speaking, something that felt like sparks settled itself in a band around my right wrist, and I looked down just in time to see the _10_ from my timer blink out of existence.

 _New York_ , I realised. _They’re in New York._

And in that moment, I knew I’d made the right choice.


End file.
